Cyrena stood by the large rectangular window of the classroom, staring out as her students did their best on their Egyptian Mythology semester exam. While their heads were full of mummificationm gods and goddesses, her sultry brown eyes surveyed the busy inhabitants of the parking lot down below. She always knew where to find him, his body like a magnet to her pupils. Stepping out of his car, black leather briefcase in hand, he greeted passing professors and students with light and friendly conversation. She folded her arms and grinned devilshly, wondering what they would think of him if they only knew of the lusty, passionate monster that lurked beneath the midnight blue suit and tie. Leaning her head against the cool glass, her eyes continued to follow him into the building. He stopped before opening the door and looked up at her briefly before entering. Even from three stories down, his gaze made her skin feel as if she had been branded by his hot touch. She had to go see him. They had been playing this coy game of cat and moust for far too long. She needed him in the worst way.
After her last class, Cyrena sashayed her way through the halls of the History Department, hoping he would be in his office, but there was nothing there but papers and textbooks dispersed around the room. She made her way inside and picked up the top term paper on the stack in the seat of his office chair. Her keen sense of smell caught the aroma of his cologne, rich coffee from his cup, and the sense of worry and fear. He was running. He knew she would come to him today. It was only a matter of time.
In Room 239 was where she finally found him, situating the classroom to prepare for his lecture. She watched him from the classroom entrance for awhile, remembering the way his body moved, his sweet inviting scent, his dark demanding voice, and the way his lips felt against her flushed skin. So much time, so many years had gone by yet he looked the same as the day she had found him, crimson bruises and scarlet wounds covering his battered body as he laid by the waterfall overlooking the palace of Jinniyah. God he was a magnificent specimen. The first real Warlock her Genie eyes had ever seen.
In the midst of her reminiscing, he noticed her prescence in the doorway. He halted his paper shuffling and looked over at her.
"Is there something I can help you with Dr. Blake?"
She stood still for a long moment before responding. How long was he going to pretend he didn't know her, that they were more than mere History Professors there at Berkeley; they had created history with each other in another land and another time.
"I hope so. I was wondering if you could help clear something up for me." she answered, advancing towards him methodically.
"I'll do my best. Anything to help out a fellow colleague." His smile was still as enticing as his voice.
"Do you know a man by the name of Keagan McQuaig? You remind me of him." He leaned against the front of the wooden desk and made a face.
"I'm sorry but I've never heard of him. How do I remind you of this man?"
"You're strong, virile, powerful, and so intelligent. Even your mannerisms are the same. In fact, you favor him. I honestly believe you are him Dr. Myers. But I guess you have to use several aliases when you've lived as long as you have." stated Cyrena, inching her way closer to his body. He folded his arms across his broad chest and chuckled wholeheartedly. |
